Allison hurries along the concrete and paved pathways of Trading Bay. Tents and stalls crowd the space between the rusting metal monstrosities that loom over the rest of the market. Some of the older tribespeople said that ramshackle structures around the Trading Bay entertained the public before the war, but Allison felt the iron husks were more intimidating than entertaining. Although Allison does not consider herself an introvert, the large crowds make her nervous. She always worries that a random stranger in the crowd might take too much of an interest in her. Yet, Allison knows that this concern is unreasonable. Allison does not stand out as an individual. Most of the other tribespeople wear shirts and jeans similar to hers, and her light skin and stringy blonde hair are not an unusual combination. Even so, being in the Trade Bay left Allison feeling uncomfortable.
Allison would have preferred to stay away from the Trade Bay, but she is running an important errand for her tribe. The air is starting to grow cold and autumn would soon arrive baring colds, flus, and other illnesses. Allison’s tribe, the farming tribe, grows a variety of fruits and vegetables for human consumption. However, the proper medicinal herbs for treating a variety of the common illnesses could only be found in the botanical gardens to the west, so Allison came to the Trading Bay with a load of spare produce in hopes of stocking up on some of the basic essential herbal remedies before anyone caught an illness. However, so far no one she talked to had any medicine to trade.
Allison continues onward, trying to keep focused on her task despite all the distractions in the trading post. Intrusive noises bombard Allison as she traveled through the bazaar: traders hawking their wares and competing parties haggling for more favorable deals. In addition, to the noise of the Trading Bay, the order of rusting metal, dust, and fish pervades the market. All the commotion disorients Allison and heightens her anxiety. She is not sure if she would be able to find the right seller in all the ruckus.
Allison passes by a rickety corral made from from the scraps of wood and metal scavenged from abandoned buildings. Coyotes and wolves mill around inside the corral, while members of the animal domestication tribe surrounding the beasts call out praises for their animals as a source of both transportation and food. Allison supported the consumption of produce as a healthier alternative to animal domestication tribe’s livestock, and does not think highly of the tribe, having seen the state of their territory. However, she is not the type to start a quarrel and doesn’t want the added attention that she would provoke if she started an argument with animal domestication tribe’s vendors, so she does not comment and continues on her way.
On a previous visit, Allison saw someone selling medicine a little further along the dusty concrete path, she hoped that they set up a booth in the same place today . Allison spots someone hawking medicinal remedies further along. Allison’s legs are aching from running around the market for since morning, but if she found the medical remedies for her tribe, she’ll be content. Two men finish haggling over an InstaTent at an adjacent stall. One of the participants, a ragged man with dark-hair, lays down sections of metal paneling in front of his wizened business partner and picks up the tent once the scraps are on the table. He nods to the trader before turning around to leave. As the battered man’s gaze pans over the walkway, his eyes stop on Allison. His eyebrows crease, and his mouth turns down as he half-strides, half-limps over to her.
“I need to speak with you.”, the stranger demands, stopping Allison before she reaches the medicinal stall. This close he looked young, but not healthy. Dirt covered his skin and clothes, and discolored patches spread over one of his hands and his neck.
Allison turns to the stranger. “About what?”, she asks.
“You're a member of the fertility tribe. I have to get into the fertility tribe territory.”
“I’m sorry, you’re mistaken, I am not a member of the fertility tribe.”, as Allison said that she resisted the urge to look around to check if anyone is watching. She would prefer not to discuss this issue in the open. She ran away from the fertility tribe 15 years ago, and has been avoiding the tribe since. She didn’t know if the tribe would try to take her back if they found her, but either way she didn’t want to find out.
“I am sure I am not! I remember seeing you when I was part of the tribe.”
“I’m sorry. I am not part of the tribe, and I can’t help you.” Allison replies, preparing to depart.
“Please, I must see my daughter. Her name is Sarah, and she’s 10-years old. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye before they kicked me out of the tribe.”, the stranger pleas, halting Allison’s retreat. The creases of tension on his face gave way to wary lines that made him seem aged beyond his years.
“Kicked out? What did you do?”, Allison asks. The longer the conversation continues, the more likely the discussion would garner the attention of a fertility tribe member. Allison knows this, but it felt indecent to leave this stranger like this.
“I became infertile. Now the tribe wants nothing to do with me as I sinned or displeased God.” the intruder replies.
“I see. I am sorry about your daughter. I would help if I could, but I can’t. I am not a member of the fertility tribe and can’t go into their territory. I hope you can find a way to reunite with your daughter.”, Allison says before stepping away from the outcast. Allison hated herself for not helping the stranger despite his clear distress, especially when they were both victims of the fertility tribe, but their discussion was already attracting stares, and she could not risk her tribe status being brought up again. Besides, she couldn't do anything even if she returned to the fertility tribe, she wouldn’t be able to convince them to let an outsider into the territory, especially when the tribe expelled him for infertility.
She tries not to run as she put some distance between herself in the stranger, even as he calls for her to stop and come back. She would purchase the medicine on another day, but not today. Right now, but in the moment all she wanted is to leave the Trading Bay and her unwanted past behind.
Allison would have preferred to stay away from the Trade Bay, but she is running an important errand for her tribe. The air is starting to grow cold and autumn would soon arrive baring colds, flus, and other illnesses. Allison’s tribe, the farming tribe, grows a variety of fruits and vegetables for human consumption. However, the proper medicinal herbs for treating a variety of the common illnesses could only be found in the botanical gardens to the west, so Allison came to the Trading Bay with a load of spare produce in hopes of stocking up on some of the basic essential herbal remedies before anyone caught an illness. However, so far no one she talked to had any medicine to trade.
Allison continues onward, trying to keep focused on her task despite all the distractions in the trading post. Intrusive noises bombard Allison as she traveled through the bazaar: traders hawking their wares and competing parties haggling for more favorable deals. In addition, to the noise of the Trading Bay, the order of rusting metal, dust, and fish pervades the market. All the commotion disorients Allison and heightens her anxiety. She is not sure if she would be able to find the right seller in all the ruckus.
Allison passes by a rickety corral made from from the scraps of wood and metal scavenged from abandoned buildings. Coyotes and wolves mill around inside the corral, while members of the animal domestication tribe surrounding the beasts call out praises for their animals as a source of both transportation and food. Allison supported the consumption of produce as a healthier alternative to animal domestication tribe’s livestock, and does not think highly of the tribe, having seen the state of their territory. However, she is not the type to start a quarrel and doesn’t want the added attention that she would provoke if she started an argument with animal domestication tribe’s vendors, so she does not comment and continues on her way.
On a previous visit, Allison saw someone selling medicine a little further along the dusty concrete path, she hoped that they set up a booth in the same place today . Allison spots someone hawking medicinal remedies further along. Allison’s legs are aching from running around the market for since morning, but if she found the medical remedies for her tribe, she’ll be content. Two men finish haggling over an InstaTent at an adjacent stall. One of the participants, a ragged man with dark-hair, lays down sections of metal paneling in front of his wizened business partner and picks up the tent once the scraps are on the table. He nods to the trader before turning around to leave. As the battered man’s gaze pans over the walkway, his eyes stop on Allison. His eyebrows crease, and his mouth turns down as he half-strides, half-limps over to her.
“I need to speak with you.”, the stranger demands, stopping Allison before she reaches the medicinal stall. This close he looked young, but not healthy. Dirt covered his skin and clothes, and discolored patches spread over one of his hands and his neck.
Allison turns to the stranger. “About what?”, she asks.
“You're a member of the fertility tribe. I have to get into the fertility tribe territory.”
“I’m sorry, you’re mistaken, I am not a member of the fertility tribe.”, as Allison said that she resisted the urge to look around to check if anyone is watching. She would prefer not to discuss this issue in the open. She ran away from the fertility tribe 15 years ago, and has been avoiding the tribe since. She didn’t know if the tribe would try to take her back if they found her, but either way she didn’t want to find out.
“I am sure I am not! I remember seeing you when I was part of the tribe.”
“I’m sorry. I am not part of the tribe, and I can’t help you.” Allison replies, preparing to depart.
“Please, I must see my daughter. Her name is Sarah, and she’s 10-years old. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye before they kicked me out of the tribe.”, the stranger pleas, halting Allison’s retreat. The creases of tension on his face gave way to wary lines that made him seem aged beyond his years.
“Kicked out? What did you do?”, Allison asks. The longer the conversation continues, the more likely the discussion would garner the attention of a fertility tribe member. Allison knows this, but it felt indecent to leave this stranger like this.
“I became infertile. Now the tribe wants nothing to do with me as I sinned or displeased God.” the intruder replies.
“I see. I am sorry about your daughter. I would help if I could, but I can’t. I am not a member of the fertility tribe and can’t go into their territory. I hope you can find a way to reunite with your daughter.”, Allison says before stepping away from the outcast. Allison hated herself for not helping the stranger despite his clear distress, especially when they were both victims of the fertility tribe, but their discussion was already attracting stares, and she could not risk her tribe status being brought up again. Besides, she couldn't do anything even if she returned to the fertility tribe, she wouldn’t be able to convince them to let an outsider into the territory, especially when the tribe expelled him for infertility.
She tries not to run as she put some distance between herself in the stranger, even as he calls for her to stop and come back. She would purchase the medicine on another day, but not today. Right now, but in the moment all she wanted is to leave the Trading Bay and her unwanted past behind.